


my friends, they are so beautiful

by gardensong



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: M/M, Open Relationships, Recreational Drug Use, canon compliant? you decide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:28:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22347952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gardensong/pseuds/gardensong
Summary: the teens have an impromptu get-together at steve's house.
Relationships: Jonathan Byers/Nancy Wheeler, Jonathan Byers/Steve Harrington
Kudos: 41





	my friends, they are so beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> once again, i am clearing out my google docs. have little a stonathan, as a treat  
> fair warning, if blurred relationship lines is something you dont enjoy, then this may not be the fic for you~  
> title from the song friends by band of skulls (twilight ost stans make some noise!)  
> please enjoy!

Jonathan didn’t know what to expect when he parked his car out in front of Steve Harrington’s place, having being beckoned here by his girlfriend who had called him with the cryptic message, “You have to come over to Steve’s. Okay, see you there, bye! Love you!”

Sure enough, Nancy’s car was in the driveway, so Jonathan placed his on the sidewalk before looking up at the Harrington’s place. He’d always thought it was ugly, one of the newer buildings in Hawkins, all angles and concrete. It was still a lot nicer than any place he’d ever be able to afford, though, based on what he’d seen from the outside alone. It had a pool, for chrissakes.

He realized he had been expecting to see Nancy waiting for him outside, ready to be whisked away home or some secluded corner near the woods, or pretty much anywhere. But as the minutes ticked by, Jonathan stuck to his seat, he realized that Nancy was not coming outside at all, and he was expected to go in.

He had never been inside Steve Harrington’s house. He didn’t like to think about how he was familiar with the layout without having been invited over, because it made him feel ashamed and ugly. He hadn’t really talked to Nancy about the whole thing since it went down (the photos, the spying, the guilt), and he certainly hadn’t broached the topic with Steve of all people. Steve had broken his camera, Steve had bought him a new one. Nothing more had to be said, really.

Steve must know that Nancy had invited Jonathan, is what Jonathan told himself as he waded through the muggy summer evening to the Harrington’s front doorstep. He wiped his palms on his shorts and then rang the doorbell in one quick motion, before he could chicken out and turn around.

He heard the bell ring inside the house, followed by hurried, loud footsteps and a crash.

“Oh! Oh my god!” The yell was muffled by the front door, but it sent Jonathan into apocalypse-mode instantly.

“Steve?” he called, leaning against the wood. Anxious cries sounded from inside, and Jonathan jiggled the doorknob anxiously. “Steve!” 

The door fell open under his weight, and Jonathan stumbled inside, panting heavily. There was a welcome mat set askew, a shoe rack, and steps leading down into a living area where Elvis was blaring from two speakers.

Steve lay at the bottom of the steps, crumpled in a heap, and right before Jonathan ran to his side, he realized Steve wasn’t crying at all, but laughing. His face was red with it, and what Jonathan had mistaken for sobs was actually wheezing laughter. He was clutching at his sides and rolling one way and another, gasping for air with tears streaming down his face.

Out of nowhere, another figure appeared: Robin jumped into frame behind Steve, wearing dungarees and a hot pink bra on her head, brandishing a broom as a weapon, the stick end pointed cautiously at Jonathan. He raised his hands slowly in surrender in response.

“Guys?”

“Oh my god!” Steve wheezed. “Oh my god, it’s Jonathan!”

“It’s Jonathan!” Robin chorused, dropping the broom and raising her arms above her head. The broom hit Steve in the knee with a worrisome _thunk_. 

“Ow!” 

“Yeah, it’s me,” Jonathan said weakly. Was T-Rex playing? “I thought you guys were in danger in here, or... something.”

Robin stared at him, then burst into laughter.

“My hero! Our hero, Steve!”

From the floor, Steve waved his arms and announced grandiosely, “Our knight in shining armor!”

“Okay...” Jonathan said. “I just came by to— Nancy?”

Because there she was, climbing over the living room sofa barefoot, her hair falling out of her bun as she moved.

“You’re here!” she called, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Oh my god, you’re here!” She ran and skipped over Steve and up the steps to wrap her arms around him. Her hair smelled of her shampoo (camomille) and of something else, too… And that’s when Jonathan finally caught on.

He put his hands on Nancy’s shoulders and gently tugged himself out of her grip.

“You’re… you’re high, aren't you?”

“Just a little bit,” Nancy allowed. She brought her thumb and index finger close together in front of her squinting eyes. “ _Teensy_ bit.”

“Oh, my god. Is this why you called me here?”

“What are you, Jonathan, boring or something?” Robin challenged as Steve staggered to his feet beside her, echoing, “Yeah, are you boring or something?”

“I’m not getting peer pressured by you guys, if that’s what— Nancy, really?”

“Join me in this space, darling!” Nancy said, now twirling around the living room in slow motion, her arms aloft like a ballerina’s.

“ _Darling_ ,” Jonathan repeated, but a laugh was beginning to brew in his chest.

“Dude, come on,” Steve said. Jonathan could see now that Steve’s eyes were red and glassy, and the smile on his face was much heavier than the one he usually wore. But that wasn’t what struck him as odd. What struck him as odd— strange, downright _bizarre_ — was that Steve wanted Jonathan to stay… and smoke weed with him?

Sure, Jonathan shouldn’t take anything people clearly off their heads had to say seriously, but he suddenly found himself powerless to do anything else than what was asked of him.

He closed the door behind him and began to take off his jacket.

“Yay! Jonathan’s staying!” Nancy called through cupped hands. “That’s my boyfriend! Whoop, whoop!”

“Okay, okay,” Jonathan grinned, avoiding Steve’s eyes as he passed him on his way to the living room sofa, where Robin was hurriedly readying a deep green bong.

“This is gonna be fun, man,” Steve said, patting Jonathan heartily on the back as they walked. It took all of Jonathan’s self control not to flinch or stare at the other boy in wonder. 

And the surprises kept coming. When Jonathan reached the sofa, Robin moved to sit on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, and Steve sat down beside him, as if they were friends, as if they always sat together. 

Jonathan took his first hit and coughed, but only a little. To his left, Nancy was smiling at him, and to his right, Steve was staring, and sitting way too close, his black pupils unblinking. Self-conscious, Jonathan shifted away, and Steve didn’t follow.

“Have I ever told you you look like a rat?” Steve said then. “But in a cute way,” he added quickly.

“Totally in a cute way,” Robin agreed, chin balanced on her hands.

Jonathan opened and closed his mouth before settling on, “Thanks you guys, really. Means a lot.”

Nancy giggled, and he turned to face her.

“You agree?” he asked.

“In a cute way!” she said, spreading her fingers across his cheek. “In a _totally_ cute way!” She pressed her face to his, their lips meeting in what was, for all intents and purposes, a kiss. Nancy was usually such a technical kisser; she always seemed to be thinking two steps ahead. And, don’t get Jonathan wrong, he loved that about her. But there was something so joyful about this, their noses pressed against each other’s cheeks, simple and chaste in a way that made his chest sing.

“Boooo!” Robin said, loudly drumming on the coffee table with her fists.

“Boooo!” Steve chorused from behind him, and fuck, he was still sitting way too close.

“No heterosexual shenanigans allowed!” Robin was saying as Jonathan and Nancy parted. “This is my house—“

“It’s my house,” Steve interjected.

“—and I reign supreme!”

Nancy burrowed the top of her head into the crook of Jonathan’s neck (it tickled) and covered her mouth with her hands.

“Oh my god!” she gasped as Jonathan reached for the bong once more. He needed to put some work in if he was going to catch up to everyone else. “You’re a lesbian!”

He almost dropped the bong.

“Watch it, dude,” Steve murmured, his arm hovering outside of Jonathan’s to prevent any disasters.

“Duh,” was Robin’s reply.

“That’s _so_ cool,” Nancy said. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Robin tried to curtsy, but she was sitting down, and the coffee table was in the way.

So, if Robin was gay... she wasn’t Steve’s girlfriend. Huh.

Jonathan chanced a look at Steve, who was now melting into the cream coloured leather of the sofa, and took another hit.

He didn’t know the exact moment his head began to cloud and his chest began to feel lighter, but suddenly he just felt _warm_ , all over. Nothing around him was solid. He took a strand of Nancy’s hair between his fingers and began to play with it while Nancy and Robin had a very important conversation.

“Nancy,” said Robin, planting her hands firmly on the coffee table. “You have a beautiful face. And I’m not just saying this… ‘cause I’m gay, you know? I really mean it. Objectively. I promise.”

“Thank you so much,” Nancy said, leaning forward. Her hair slipped out of Jonathan’s fingers as she moved, and he instead became focused on the air. Hair, air. It was the same thing, if you really thought about it. Beside him, buried deep into the sofa, Steve let out a chuckle. “So do you,” Nancy told Robin. “Your eyes are just… wow!”

“Your eyes too!” Robin gasped.

“Oh my gosh, thank you,” said Nancy. She seemed close to tears. Jonathan reached out a hand to comfort her, but his fingers only seemed to brush the back of her dress. “Can I do your makeup?”

Robin looked incredibly serious. “Absolutely,” she said.

Nancy laughed happily and climbed to her feet. Once again, Jonathan tried to steady her, but his limbs weren’t working. He’d smoked before, sure, but this stuff was powerful. Figures. Rich kid Steve had rich kid weed.

And like that, Robin and Nancy were gone, disappearing up the stairs in a fit of giggles. Jonathan turned to watch them exit, and at least Nancy seemed to be having fun. She didn’t really have any friends, not since Barb. All they really had was each other. That couldn’t be good. Was that good?

He turned to Steve.

“You have make-up?” is what came out. Steve shrugged. He looked sleepy, comfortable.

“My mom’s. Robin did my eyes the other day.” He grinned. “I looked hot.”

Jonathan grinned back, and Steve pulled himself up from his cozy spot. He had a pillow on his lap, Jonathan noticed, and was hugging it like it was some plush toy. His fingers were absently drawing patterns on the fabric of it, and for a moment, Jonathan got distracted watching.

“You’d look awesome,” Steve then said. Jonathan frowned, unsure of what he meant, and then they were both trying to get into the upstairs bathroom. The door was locked from inside, and Nancy yelled, “NO PEEKING!” from the other side of the door. Jonathan could hear Robin giggling, and it was infectious. He fell against the opposite wall, feeling laughter bubbling in his chest. It really did feel like bubbles. Steve instead leaned against the door.

“I just need this one thing!” Steve groaned, his lips squished against the laquered wood. “Oh my _god_!”

“Fine!” Nancy shouted back, and opened the door so fast Steve fell through the door frame. Jonathan laughed harder, and was still laughing when Steve shepherded him into what Jonathan vaguely recognized as Steve’s bedroom.

“Siddown,” Steve ordered, patting Jonathan on the shoulders as he did so. Jonathan obeyed, dropping onto the unmade bed and looking around. Steve had not redecorated since Jonathan had seen this place last. Jonathan swallowed, reminding himself that Steve was okay with him now. He wouldn’t have invited him to stay if he wasn’t okay with him.

Steve didn’t take the girl’s precautions, instead leaving the bedroom door wide open. This made Jonathan nervous for a reason he couldn’t place, but the feeling soon dissipated when he noticed what Steve had in his hand.

“Sthat a pencil?” he slurred. He didn’t mean to slur, that’s just how it came out.

“Eyeliner, dude. You don’t know Bowie?”

“I _know_ Bowie,” Jonathan scoffed.

“Then you know what eyeliner is.”

Steve nudged Jonathan’s legs apart with his knee and stood between them, leaning down with the precision of a day-drinking surgeon.

“Now, hold still,” he said. His breath was hot and sticky and smelled strongly of chocolate. Jonathan wrinkled his nose, then squinted when Steve rested his hand on his cheekbone. “Hold still,” Steve said again, and again his breath hit Jonathan full in the face. “Keep your eyes open, c’mon. Help me out here.”

The tip of the eye-pencil was cool and smooth, and it slid along the rim of his eyelid much too easily.

“You’re sure this is where it goes?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“What if you draw on my eye by accident.”

“I’m not gonna draw on your–”

Steve became quiet.

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” he said then.

“What’s fine?” Jonathan demanded.

“It looks good, just let me–” and as the eye pencil drew close to Jonathan’s eye once more, Jonathan reached up to bat it away.

“Ow!” he said when Steve poked him in the eye.

“Oh my god.” Steve jumped and covered his mouth with his hands. “Ooohh my god!”

“I gotta wash–” Jonathan said, getting to his feet, the heel of his palm pressed into his right eye.

“Coming through!” Steve said, running ahead of him.

“We’re busy!” Nancy shouted from inside the bathroom. 

“The kitchen!” said Steve, but Jonathan had no clue where the kitchen was. Steve must have gathered as much. He took Jonathan’s arm and pulled him along until he was confronted with a stainless steel sink with running water.

Jonathan splashed water into his eye, recoiling at the sting of it. After a while, it didn’t hurt so much, and he turned to Steve, who’s hand was on his back.

“Did I get it off?”

“Oh no!” Steve gasped. “Oh no. You look like a widow!”

“A widow?” Jonathan asked, eyes wide. Steve pointed to the darkened window above the sink, and Jonathan saw his reflection there. Black ran down both his cheeks, and it did look as if he had been crying. He snorted, and then laughed at his snort. Steve joined in, and that was when Jonathan saw the huge black line across his cheek. “You drew on yourself!” he giggled, and Steve leaned over the sink to get a better look.

“Shit!” he said, then dunked his head into the empty sink.

Unthinking, Jonathan reached out and turned the faucet back on.

“Aargh!” Steve said, leaping back, a sprinkle of water following. “My hair!” he patted the back of his neck, then the top of his head, which now shone with water. “Dude, my hair!”

Jonathan sunk onto the floor holding his stomach. It was starting to ache, and his face felt unnaturally warm.

“I’m sorry,” he wheezed. “Or I’m not. You almost,” he stopped for breath, “took my eye out.”

“Your eye is fine!” Steve responded. “My hair will never recover!”

“Water,” Jonathan said. “It was _water_.”

And Steve finally seemed to give in. He too sunk onto the floor, his back against the kitchen island, his socked feet beside Jonathan. Jonathan wiped tears out of his eyes, his chest still vibrating with laughter every so often. Steve had a soft smile on his face, but it seemed muted, somehow. This was enough to calm Jonathan down, and he sighed deeply and looked up.

Steve cleared his throat.

“I, uh, said some stuff,” he said. “To you. I shouldn’t have.”

“When you said I had a rat face?”

“No, no,” Steve dismissed. “Before that. Ages ago.”

“Oh,” said Jonathan.

Steve took a deep breath. “I was an asshole. You know. And I said... I called you a... you know.”

Jonathan did know.

“Yeah.”

“Well, I’m sorry. About that. Really, man. It... it wasn’t cool.”

Jonathan didn’t quite know what to respond to that. _It’s okay?_ Was it?

“We’re ba-aack!” sing-songed Robin. Jonathan got to his feet first, aware that Steve was watching him all the while.

Robin and Nancy came into the living room together, arm in arm. They had definitely raided Mrs Harrington’s makeup selection, because they were barely recognizable. They were beautiful, sure, but Jonathan had never seen Nancy look like this. In fact, she looked more like her mother than ever. Her lips shone bright red, and looked oddly edible. Her eyes were larger than ever, surrounded in deep black eyeshadow, and her cheekbones sparkled with glitter. She smiled at Jonathan, and Jonathan smiled back.

“You look like a princess!” Steve gasped. He was behind Jonathan, but he pushed past him to reach Robin, who curtsied with an invisible skirt.

“M’lord,” she said. She looked different, too, and Nancy had certainly been calling the shots. Her eyeshadow was a pastel pink and her eyelashes had been painted white. There was glitter in her messy hair, and her lips were as pale as her skin. She looked otherworldly.

When she surfaced from her curtsy, Steve took both her hands in his, and they began to dance around the room in an energetic but clumsy waltz that did not match what was playing on the speakers at all.

Nancy shimmied up to Jonathan, the smile on her lips a vibrant thing, and soon they were dancing, too. They then switched partners, and when Nancy joined hands with Steve it didn't make Jonathan at all. In his arms, Robin was studying him, a glazed look on her face and something else, too.

“Johnny-boy!” Steve sang, and then Robin was gone and Steve stood in her place. His hand was on Jonathan’s hip and he was merrily dancing them around the room, much more aggressively than Nancy or Robin had done. He even knocked into some pieces of furniture, but didn’t seem to mind, joy bright on his face.

And then something changed. The next song slowed down, and Jonathan recognized the tune.

“You listen to The Replacements?” he asked Steve, who had begun to sway gently instead, his gaze lost somewhere past Jonathan’s ear. Their fingers were intertwined, and Steve’s palm was pretty sweaty.

“Huh?” Steve asked, looking Jonathan in the eye. Steve’s eyebrows were wild things, and Jonathan saw stray hairs climbing up his forehead. He guessed they were pretty close.

“It’s my music,” said Robin. She and Nancy were still holding each other, but they bumped into the boys easily, Robin leaning her head back to see Jonathan better. “Steve has zero taste.”

And Steve let go of Jonathan, his fingers slipping out from under Jonathan’s, his hand falling off of his hip.

“Hey, I have some taste,” he said, and Nancy laughed. Robin shook her head rotoundley, then put her arms around Steve’s neck.

“You don’t, but that’s okay, because you’re pretty,” she said, lifting her hand to ruffle Steve’s hair. She pulled a face, however, when she realized it was wet. Nancy slipped her arms around Jonathan’s waist, nestling her head on his chest as Robin said, “Ew, what _happened_? You’re soaked!”

“I don’t really know,” Steve said. Robin froze.

“Steve,” she said gravely. “Does your mom still keep the porn under the staircase?”

  
  


It was supposed to be funny. And honestly, at first, it was. Because it was so fake, you know, and the camera work was shoddy, and Jonathan spotted a boom mic two minutes into it.

And then it wasn’t funny.

Robin was snoring into Jonathan’s arm, the patch where her mouth was warm and wet. Nancy was curled up on the next sofa, also managing to sleep through the moans and groans emanating from the television set. Jonathan wished he were anywhere but here.

“Are you seeing this shit?” Steve whispered, barely audible. Jonathan turned to look at him. He was draped over an armchair, his legs over the armrest, his arms wrapped around his middle. There was a look of what was either terror or disgust on his face, and Jonathan guessed that he was coming down, too.

“Yeah,” Jonathan croaked. 

“Can we turn it off?” pleaded Steve.

“Please.”

Steve leapt up and hit the off button on the front of the set, then putting his hands on his hips. The moans and sighs had been bad, but the silence that now followed was a close second.

Robin grunted in her sleep.

“You want help with that?” Steve asked.

Jonathan nodded.

“Sleep through anything, this one,” said Steve as he pulled Robin away from Jonathan and rearranged her on the sofa. “It’s almost impressive.”

As Jonathan got to his feet, Steve pulled the blanket off the back of the couch and quickly laid it over his sleeping friend. Jonathan blinked. When did Steve Harrington become… _that_? Or maybe he always had been.

His eyes darted towards his sleeping girlfriend on the next sofa. He should put a blanket over her, too. But it would just look weird now than Steve had done it. 

So instead, he said, “Water?” And Steve told him tap was fine, and that glasses were in the cabinet on the left.

After his first sip of water, Jonathan laughed despite himself. When Steve gave him a questioning look, his own glass in hand, Jonathan said, “I don’t think water’s ever tasted this good.”

Steve grinned. “Me neither.”

Jonathan looked over at the doorway, through which the sleeping girls lay.

“They got along,” Steve said, reading his thoughts. Once again, they were stuck in the space between the sink and the kitchen island. Only this time they were standing, and Steve seemed closer, somehow.

“Yeah. I kinda... I kinda thought Nancy was jealous,” Jonathan admitted, and took another sip of water to distract from whatever emotion his face may be displaying.

Steve wiggled his eyebrows.

“Of who?”

“Of Robin,” sighed Jonathan. “But I think she was just... looking out for you.”

Steve dropped his goofy grin. “Oh.”

“She seems nice,” Jonathan offered. Sure, he didn’t know Robin much, but even so he felt like she was someone he could trust. They were bound together, he realized, Steve, Nancy, Robin and him, just as they were bound to Will’s friends and his own mom. They’d all seen things no one else had.

Steve swallowed water and nodded deeply. “Oh, she’s awesome,” he admitted readily. “Way cooler than me.”

And even though he had witnessed the blanket, Jonathan was shocked at such a statement. Steve Harrington really had changed.

“What?” Steve asked. “What’s funny?”

Jonathan realized he was smiling. “Nothing,” he said, ducking his head. His hair fell in his eyes, but he left it there.

“Uh-uh,” Steve said, sounding thoroughly unconvinced.

“Really, it’s nothing,” Jonathan replied. It came out softer than he had expected it to, and when he looked up, he almost startled at how close Steve was. He hadn’t noticed him get _that_ close.

He settled his glass of water on the side behind him, his throat suddenly dry. He definitely wasn’t that high anymore, but he noticed thin hairs over Steve’s top lip and felt something stir in his chest. He shouldn’t stare at Steve’s lips like that, like this, at all, ever. But Steve’s eyes were no improvement. His eyelids were heavy, and there was something in them other than the high they were coming down from… 

“ _Oohhhh_ ,” someone groaned from the next room.

Very calmly – almost too calmy – Steve cleared his throat and stepped back. The space he left between them felt cold somehow.

Behind him, Jonathan saw Nancy through the doorway. She was walking slowly through the living room, her arms extended out in front of her in caution.

“Nance?” said Jonathan.

“I’m gonna...” Nancy began. And then she broke out into a run.

“Go get her, tiger.” Steve pulled a face. “Oh, that sounded better in my head.”

Jonathan nodded, because, yeah, it probably had sounded better in his head, and followed the sounds to where the downstairs bathroom was. His girlfriend was bent over the toilet looking miserable, and he knelt down beside her and rubbed her back.

“What were you talking about?” she asked wiping her mouth with toilet paper. The lipstick Robin had carefully applied to her earlier was now smearing over her chin, and her eyes were wet, her eyelashes drawn together. She still looked beautiful.

“Huh? Oh. About you.”

Nancy rolled her eyes and shoved him gently. 

“I need to clean up.” She then raised a hand and put her thumb under Jonathan’s right eye. “Looking good.”

As he left, Jonathan caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. The eyeliner did look cool.

Back in the living room, Steve and Robin were huddled together on the sofa murmuring. They stopped altogether as soon as they spotted Jonathan, who was now definitely feeling a lot more sober. There was nothing like watching your girlfriend throw up after totally nothing happened with a dude you hated all throughout high school.

Said dude certainly looked as if nothing had happened.

“You guys can stay the night,” he offered. “My folks don’t get home until Sunday.”

The truth was, Jonathan suddenly couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

“I think I’m gonna take the little lady home,” he said, putting his hands into his jean pockets and hating how his voice sounded.

“Not little,” Nancy murmured, emerging from behind him. Her hair was back in a bun, this one much messier but definitely more strict. Her pale skin shone and the make-up around her eyes was faded.

“Here, I’ll help you to the car,” Steve volunteered, leaping up. This led Jonathan to believe that perhaps whatever had just happened in the kitchen really hadn’t happened at all. Steve was acting perfectly normal – at least, as normal as Steve ever acted these days. He held out an arm to Nancy’s left and Nancy took it, albeit begrudgingly. Robin waved them _adieu_ from under her blanket as both boys escorted Nancy out into the surprisingly chilly summer night.

The two of them helped Nancy into the passenger seat of her own car, and Jonathan wished he wasn’t so focused on Steve’s hand brushing against his own in the process. Something in his gut jolted at the contact, and he wasn’t stupid enough not to know what that feeling was.

Steve himself didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. He stepped back from the car and slapped the front of his jeans.

Jonathan was about to mention the presence of his own car, parked across the road sitting in shadow, but he swallowed it and got into the driver’s seat of Nancy’s.

“Uh, thanks,” he said before closing the door. “Tonight was fun.”

Steve gave him a thumbs up.

Jonathan closed the car door and started up the engine.

“Steve and Jonathan, sitting in a tree,” Nancy sang as they pulled out of the driveway.

Jonathan snorted. Butterflies burst in his chest.

“I would have no problem with it. By the way.”

Jonathan changed a cautionary look over at his girlfriend. She was slumped in her seat, her seatbelt just under her jaw.

“You’re still high,” he said softly, adding a laugh for good measure.

“Maybe,” said Nancy, and promptly fell asleep.

Jonathan carried her into the Wheeler’s house, praying to god Mr Wheeler hadn’t been relegated to his favorite armchair tonight of all nights. Luckily, the coast was clear, and although she murmured a little as they climbed the stairs, she didn’t make much noise.

On the landing, he caught something moving in the dark.

He wished his mind didn’t jump to interdimensional monsters anytime he heard a noise in the dark, but his heart stopped in his throat all the same.

Of course, it was no Demogorgon. His little brother’s best friend stood frozen, Jane at his side. The panicked look in his eyes was clear, but the determined one in Jane’s was even clearer. You don’t tell, I won’t. 

Mom would have a heart attack if she knew Jane wasn’t at home.

But they were leaving in a few weeks. Jonathan had the feeling that telling on his new sister wouldn’t do anyone any favors.

He nodded carefully. Nancy stirred in his arms.

“Hang on…” she murmured. Jonathan quickly whisked her into her bedroom before she could say another word.

“Are you still feeling sick?” he asked as he lay her down on her bed.

She shook her head numbly against her pillow.

“Shoes,” she said.

“On it.”

“It’s so funny you’re into Steve,” she giggled just as Jonathan was removing her second shoe.

“It’s really not,” Jonathan said. “I mean, I’m not.”

“Hey, come here.” She extended her arms out in front of her and wiggled her fingers. “Come.”

“You’ve got puke mouth,” Jonathan reminded her as he obeyed, kneeling on the mattress.

“I used mouthwash,” she mumbled against his mouth.

“Oh, well in that case.”

He felt himself relax as they kissed. This was comfortable, this was known. This was home.

“I love you,” she said when they parted.

“I love you, too.” He didn’t doubt it, and felt the truth in it as he said as much out loud.

Nancy gave him a soft smile. “You can’t sleep here.”

“I know.” He kissed her nose and pushed himself away. “See you tomorrow?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she shrugged. At Jonathan’s frown, she added, “ _Maybe_ you’ll be busy.”

“See you tomorrow,” Jonathan confirmed, and slipped out of her bedroom.

Busy. Yeah, right.

He went straight from the Wheeler’s house to Steve’s. He walked, the hairs on his arm standing up in the late night chill. He knew that walking cleared people’s heads, or at least, it did in movies or books. When he reached the Harrington’s however, he wasn’t sure if his head was cleared at all. It just felt empty. Maybe that was the same thing.

His care remained where he left it, and he dug his hand into his back pocket for his keys. He did not at first notice the figure sitting on the Harrington’s doorstep, smoking a cigarette. When Steve stood, the front lights flickered on, and Jonathan turned.

Steve wordlessly skipped down the driveway and held Jonathan’s jacket out in front of him as he crossed the silent road. 

“I figured you might be back for it,” Steve said. He dropped his cigarette onto the asphalt and put it out under his tennis shoe. It was dark this far away from the house, but Jonathan could still easily make out the outline of the other boy.

“Thanks,” he said, shrugging his returned jacket on. He put his hands in its pockets and nodded towards Steve’s house. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

“Shouldn’t you? Mrs Wheeler still not big on sleepovers, huh?” Steve grimaced. “Sorry, was that a dick thing to say?”

Jonathan shrugged. “Maybe. I don’t know. Hey, uh. I had fun tonight. I said that already.” He took a deep breath. “So… yeah. Thanks for that.”

“Oh. Of course. No problem.”

“Except for, you know,” Jonathan then said. Steve raised his eyebrows. “The porn.”

“Oh!” Steve said, eyes widening. “Oh, yeah. That, uh, was an inspired… Yeah, we’re not doing that again, _that’s_ for sure.”

Jonathan swallowed, and Steve’s eyes flickered down to his throat. Jonathan saw it. In the low light, he saw it.

He licked his lips. Steve watched that, too.

“Are you…” Jonathan began. Steve’s attention jolted away from his mouth, and Jonathan started again. “Are you still high?”

Steve shook his head and shrugged one shoulder. “Nah.”

“Okay,” Jonathan said, and stepped closer.

“Wait, what’re you—“

Steve could not finish this question, because Jonathan kissed him. His heart was thudding in his ears as he did. It was a short kiss, barely anything at all. His lips were against Steve’s for a second, a fraction of a second. He leaned back to see Steve staring at him in bewilderment. Then Steve kissed him back. His hand cupped Jonathan’s jaw, his mouth was wet, and he pushed Jonathan back against the car.

Their faces were still pressed together, but the kiss broke for Steve to say, “This is—” and for Jonathan to agree, “Yeah.”

“Nancy,” Steve said. It sounded like a question.

Jonathan shook his head. Steve was pressing into him, their chests flush with one another, their legs tangled together.

“It’s okay,” he said. 

He could just make out the crease of a frown on Steve’s forehead.

“It’s okay?”

“Yeah. It’s okay.” 

This seemed enough of an answer. Steve dove into him again. This kiss was hard, and begged for Jonathan to push back. It was different. It was good.

Steve pulled away to huff out a laugh.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’ve never–”

Jonathan squeezed Steve’s elbow, not sure where to look. “Me neither.”

“Okay,” Steve said, and Jonathan pressed another kiss to his mouth. Steve coaxed his mouth open and why was Steve kissing him like this? With so much feeling? “Is this weird?” Steve asked him, seeming to read his mind.

“Yeah, a bit,” Jonathan confessed, because it was. He was making out with Steve Harrington against his car at three in the morning. None of this made any sense.

“Wanna stop?” Steve asked, suddenly sounding anxious.

“Not really,” Jonathan admitted.

Steve let out a breath. “Okay,” he said. “So let’s not stop.”

“Let’s not,” Jonathan agreed.

“That makeup really does look hot on you,” Steve murmured, pressing against him further.

“Uh-huh,” Jonathan laughed. “You’ve been wanting me all night.”

“You have no idea.”

That turned the tide for Jonathan. He pushed Steve away only to flip them, pressing Steve against the side of the car instead. He kissed Steve’s neck.

“Fuck,” Steve said as he did so. He was jiggling his leg, which was annoying, so Jonathan put his hand on Steve’s thigh to stop him. Steve swallowed, and Jonathan pressed a kiss under his jaw.

The porch lights blared on again.

“ _Oh my god!_ ” Robin yelled from the other side of the road. Jonathan felt the air leave his lungs. He could melt into the ground here and now. Steve, on the other hand, seemed to jerk to life.

“Fuck off, Robin!” he yelled back at her.

“Oh my _god_ !” Robin said again. Jonathan wouldn’t turn to look at her, but he could imagine her grabbing at her own face just fine. “This is _too_ much,” she said. “Oh my god! I knew I was getting a vibe!”

“Robin, _please_ , go away!”

“You don’t have to tell me twice!”

“I _literally_ just did!” Steve huffed.

“Holy _fuck_!” Robin sang, but this time, the slam of a door followed.

“Oh my god,” Steve mumbled, clearly distressed. Jonathan pushed off of him and saw he had gone slightly pink. He was caged in by Jonathan’s arms, lips shining, and although this sight was nothing but encouraging to Jonathan, he patted the hood of his car.

“Wanna head somewhere?” he suggested, feeling bolder than he ever had before. It was easy, he supposed, to feel bold after giving another guy a noticeable hard-on.

“Anywhere sounds good, honestly,” Steve admitted, his eyes flickering towards his house where Robin unmistakably lay in wait.

“Anywhere it is,” Jonathan said.

Nancy had been right.

He probably was going to be busy tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! i hope you enjoyed it!


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